WHN: The Gambling Game
by JT Estes Gabert
Summary: "Someone needs a shoulder", Ed Brown said, though earlier he'd said "Lady, if you ever need help, DON'T call me." What caused this change in attitude? Another perspective of the missing scene in, The Gambling Game.


**WHN: The Gambling Game: Sucker Punch**

Ed Brown watched as the uniforms moved in and began securing the crime scene. Just ninety minutes earlier, there had been a trap sprung by the Chief to find the murderer of SFPD Captain Dave Belding, one of Ironside's Wednesday night poker group regulars and good friend. Months ago, Belding started an investigation of floating casinos in the city and the money laundering of the profits done by mobster Eddie Rogers and his gang. Ironside wanted to find them as well, especially after his friend had been murdered. The trap had not gone flawlessly, it had resulted in a shooting death. Brown hated cases that ended this way. There was always a yin and yang to it. On the one hand, there was resolution for Belding's daughter, Fran, who was standing a few feet away from him. She now knew who had killed her father and why. Perhaps now things could start to move forward for her. She deserved that much.

Then there was the other side, Betty Anderson, now keening over the body of her lover, Joe Julian, admitting to all within earshot, especially Fran, that she, not Julian, had murdered Dave Belding. That she did it because of her love for Joe Julian. Two lives now shattered because of one man's ego and another man's dedication to justice. Ed didn't know whether it was Ironside's, Carl Reese's, one of the uniform's, or his bullet, that had killed Julian. That would be the job of the SFPD Shooting Board. Whoever it was, he knew the shooting would be called justifiable. Julian had been shooting at them. Their lives were in danger, reasonable force had been used, but Ed Brown still hated taking a life.

He worried about Fran Belding now, about how she might react after all of this. Fran had been temporarily transferred from her job, patrolling the parking meters in the Castro neighborhood, to their team, after she had begun investigating her father's death on her own. To her credit, she had no qualms about drawing a weapon and had stayed close to the Chief, ready to move him out of the way if necessary, with her service revolver drawn. Then, there she was, in the middle of the shooting's aftermath, placing a comforting hand on Betty Anderson's shoulder. Calmly telling the uniforms to let Betty have all the time she needed to say goodbye; then quietly turning and soundlessly going back to the van, getting in, to silently wait for Ironside's verdict. "_Do I stay or do I go?" _He knew she was anticipating the worst, even on this night she was beginning the long road of healing. Ed Brown knew it was time to say something to her.

The Chief had told him as much, when he talked with Ed privately earlier in the day,

"I know you and Fran haven't hit it off and right now, you don't think you can work with her and you think that _**this**_," he said gruffly, pointing to his cervical collar, "is entirely her fault." Ed nodded dumbly. "Well Sergeant, it wasn't. It was **my** fault. I fell all by myself. Nobody pushed me. But you better than most, should understand what she's going through. Someone she loved dearly is dead, senselessly murdered. We _**didn't**_ help her by **not** telling her we believed that Dave Belding wasn't a dirty cop, and that we were trying to make his killer show their hand, and that we _**used**_ her as a way not only find her father's killer but the floating casinos and the mole in the Department as well. _**You **_didn't help Sergeant Brown, by constantly comparing her to your former partner." He threw up his hand warding off Ed's protests. "Oh, I know you never once _**said**_ her name Ed, but Eve Whitfield has been here on this case _**all the time**_**.** You think Fran didn't know that? She's been hanging by a thread trying to help us find her father's killer, trying to be professional and keep her sanity, without us supporting her much. She's not Eve, but she's got potential; potential to be a good officer, on her own strengths and merits. That's your decision to make Ed. You remember what it's like, to be a rookie, to make those beginner mistakes, to feel the way she does because someone close to her died brutally, so talk with her. Feeling that you're the **_only_** person in the world who can make it right. You understand that better than any of us. She needs to know she's not alone in how she's feeling. If after that, you still feel you can't work with her, then that's your call to make but it needs to be made pretty soon."

He looked at the Chief and Mark, "If you'll excuse me, someone is in need of a shoulder". He said, leaving them and getting into the van. He sat quietly for a time next to Fran on the back bench seat. He heard her begin to cry softly and handed her his handkerchief. Then she turned into him as waves of tears overtook her, causing her to shake as if she was frozen with cold and had just come into a room with a blazing fire. As Ed held her, he could feel the tension and stress that had kept her going the past weeks bleed out of her. Finally her tears stopped.

"I'm sorry I soaked your jacket." She said as she used the kerchief to dry her face. She looked wan, weak, totally exhausted.

"Not the first time, won't be the last." He said cheerily. "Here. Let me" he said, taking the cloth, and touching his tongue to it. Gently he dabbed at the corners of her eyes and under them. "Can't let the Chief know you mussed your mascara."

"Thanks. It's over finally, isn't it?" Fran said softly. She pulled two bottles of water out of the case they kept in the back of the van, handed him one and opened the other, taking a long thirsty drink. "Everything's over. It's finished."

"Yeah, it's all over." Ed replied. "You're through." He yawned, suddenly realizing how exhausted he was. "_You're through with this case but you're welcome to stay, if you want. Let's start fresh tomorrow morning" _He thought, not realizing he wasn't speaking aloud anymore. Nights like this did that to him, they wrung him dry and he wasn't going to get to sleep very long before the Chief required them to be in at 8 am... **"**_**Oww! **_**What the hell**?"

He rubbed his shoulder. Fran had delivered a solid punch to his upper left arm.

"That hurt!" he said, rubbing the sore area. Then he realized what he hadn't said to her, and considered the impact of his unsaid words on her, all she'd heard was,"_**You're through**__."_ Immediately, he was sorry for the missing words he thought he'd said. He deserved that punch. He tried to apologize. Fran would have none of it.

"What you said to me hurt," she said, "but, it doesn't matter, because what you said is true and I'll be gone, probably as early as tomorrow, back to the Castro, checking parking meters. I'm told I'm pretty good at that. I won't darken your office again. And I'm sorry I hit you, it was uncalled for. You'll be fine. You might have a bruise, but I didn't hit you half as hard as I hit Bobby Maldonado in second grade. I broke his nose for calling me a name.

Ed smiled. "You're more fearless than you let on to people. I'll watch my words."

"I'll just be a uniform pretty soon. You'll be able to say anything you want to me, Sergeant Brown. I'll just smile and say, "Yessir".

It hit him that Fran firmly believed she was going back to street patrol. She and Ed certainly hadn't started out on the best terms. He done nothing to help her feel she had a chance of staying there. He changed the subject.

"It's been hard for you these past months. First, your dad is murdered, then the Chief transfers you and now this case is over. We've got your dad's killer. At least now, you can begin closure, a chance to start healing, grieving, saying goodbye. **That's **what I wanted to tell you and didn't. You're through the worst of it. That's going to be important… I know it was for me."

She looked at him in amazement. "How would you know what's important about my father's death?"

"How?" Ed smiled. It was a thin, tight, sad, painful one, though in the darkness, he knew Fran couldn't see him. He took a deep breath, releasing it slowly. "One day you're making plans for a life together with someone you love, and then they're gone for no reason other than being in the wrong place, at the wrong time."

Fran thought quickly. "Tom Dayton, he murdered your fiancé. My, my father told me about that. When it happened, I remember how he wanted to do everything he could to help you by capturing him. I didn't know you then, but I felt so sad for you. I knew how dad felt when my mother died. I could only imagine the pain you were in."

Ed held his breath and pursed his lips. "I didn't get to say goodbye to her. You didn't get to say goodbye to your father. That's why when you were out there, _touching_ your father's killer, _asking_ the uniforms to give her time with her boyfriend's body. That was as compassionate an act I've ever seen. I could never do anything like that. Someone who can do something like that wouldn't have intentionally hurt anyone. I blamed you for the Chief's injury; for everything, including Eve leaving. You weren't responsible. I was wrong and I'm sorry."

"I know I did things wrong and I get now what you've been trying to teach me, Ed, though it's probably too late for me continuing to work with you, Mark, the Chief. It's not going to be easy, but you can go on. Maybe the Chief will let me come and help again sometime."

Ed nodded. "That's why I want to tell you that _**if**_", he started to say but was interrupted by a pounding on the lift door. Ed reached across and opened the door to see the Chief and Mark outside. He suspected that Mark had been told to do the door pounding. He hadn't been able to tell Fran what he wanted to. And now time had run out. "…_if you want to stay, I'd like that." _He hadn't told her.

"Sergeant Brown. Officer Belding. Are we finished with couples therapy? There are reports that need to be written tonight, if that's not too _**inconvenient**_ for you two", the Chief growled.

"Nothing but moonlight and romance back here, Chief", Ed laughed as he opened the doors and pressed the button to lower the chairlift.

Fran could tell there was some hidden meaning in Ed's words, but decided to not think the words too deeply. Ed said them the night they were undercover and she'd blown the stakeout by being too angry, too much in a hurry to find her father's killer that she had kept them from uncovering vital evidence and she thought, also destroyed any chance of being able to work with Ed Brown ever as a partner, especially when she angrily threw those words back at him in front of the Chief later that same evening, but something had changed. Something had been decided between Ed and the Chief.

Mark got in the van, humming Otis Redding, settling himself behind the steering wheel, ready to take them back to the office. Ed helped the Chief secure his chair in the back, taking the back seat she'd recently occupied and Fran moved into the front passenger seat, at least she didn't have to look at them on her last ride with them. She'd say her goodbyes in the garage. She stared out at the dashboard. The Chief's car phone was right in front of her. There was one last good thing she could do. Dr. Latham, the Chief's doctor, had given her phone numbers so that she could find him or his service, any time, day or night. She picked it up and dialed, making the arrangements for the Chief to have the overdue surgery on his neck, before he could argue with her, pleased that Dr. Latham had already made arrangements for the Chief to be admitted immediately.

The Chief began talking, "…going to be out for a while", he said in a low voice, but she only heard the tone of his voice, his words didn't register. She was waiting for him to tell her she was returning to Park and her parking meters, and how soon. Then she heard him ask, "_Can you stay on_?"

"_Can I stay on?"_ Fran now understood Ed saying, "_land of moonlight and romance_" to her. It was his way of saying he'd moved on beyond that horrible evening at the club. His way of telling her he was willing to train her to be his partner. "_Can I? Do I want to?"_ she thought briefly. But she knew the answer to that.

"I'm on".


End file.
